We won't let it
by agentcalliope
Summary: She's frozen in place, and staring at the white-washed wall of an unfamiliar lab as her thoughts races and heart pounds. She's frozen in place, trying to process Holden Radcliffe and his gun and his henchmen who laugh at his humorless words from behind her. She's frozen in place, but she tightens her grip on Fitz's hand. (and he tightens his grip on hers) *written before 4.01*


They should be at the park.

They should be at the park, strolling past the elderly woman who feeds the ducks everyday without fail, giving her a wave as they round the bend. The noises and the smells of the city should be assaulting their senses, even though the smell of trees and crisp scent of the lake almost make them forget it.

They should be at the park watching the kids play with their dogs and he should be joking about them having children and she should be laughing although it's something she's really thought about.

Instead they had accepted Coulson's request to scope out an abandoned lab where Daisy might be and now when they should be at the park, they're _here_.

"For a couple of geniuses, you were pretty easy to fool." His voice drips with amusement and mirth, and combined with the sound of a gun being loaded Jemma finds herself frozen in place.

She's frozen in place, and staring at the white-washed wall of an unfamiliar lab as her thoughts races and heart pounds.

She's frozen in place, trying to process Holden Radcliffe and his gun and his henchmen who laugh at his humorless words from behind her.

She's frozen in place, but she tightens her grip on Fitz's hand.

(and he tightens his grip on hers)

"Oh for God's sake would you turn around already? Feels like I'm talking to your backsides." Radcliffe's voice rings out with annoyance rather than glee. "Bloody rude if you ask me."

Jemma doesn't let go of Fitz as she whips around to face Radcliffe, unconsciously shielding Fitz's body with her own and staring Radcliffe down with a fierce gaze.

"Well, good thing nobody asked you then."

Fitz shifts besides her, turning around to face Radcliffe and squeezing her hand for a beat during her comment, and she can feel his unspoken warning her about upsetting the man currently holding them at gunpoint.

"Jemma! I assure you that I mean you both no harm!" Radcliffe feigns innocence, placing a hand over his chest but keeping his gun trained at them. His eyes are wide, mouth agape and he's shaking his head ever so slightly, about to add on to his thought.

"That's 'Dr. Simmons' to you." Fitz growls, and though pride shoots through her like a bullet Jemma's staring down the barrel of a gun and somehow tightens her grip on his hand even more than before.

(She tries to send that same unspoken warning back to him, too)

Radcliffe shrugs, ignoring Fitz and seemingly understanding that his charade does nothing to placate them, and he drops his hand to his side as he exhales deeply.

"Moving on," he causally mentions. "I'm going to need-"

"Fitz and I aren't going anywhere with you."

Radcliffe makes a strangling noise and his henchmen laugh. "Can you two just let me finish for _once?_ I can't say anything without being interrupted or bashed on and it's _really_ infuriating!" "Besides," Radcliffe contorts his face into a sly grin, and it makes Jemma's blood run cold. "I don't need _you_."

The words ring in her mind, cacophonous and haunting. They clash and muddle and blend until the singular 'you' roars and rattles her into understanding.

'I don't need you,' he had said.

'I only need _Fitz_ ,' is what he hadn't.

The henchmen begin to stride forward, and the panic she has fought so hard to suppress rises up, bubbling in her chest and blurring her vision. Whipping her head to face Fitz's wide, terrified eyes, Jemma's breath catches in her throat and the tears start to fall—

 _I'm tired of seeing our friends ripped apart from eachother. That can't happen to us again. I won't let it._

 _Then we won't let it._

"No!" She screams at him, scrambling for his hand without letting go of his other one.

"No." He whispers back, taking her hand in his without letting go of her other one.

"No!" She screams at the henchmen, turning towards them as she pulls Fitz behind her in an effort to stop them from taking him and she knows it's a lost cause but she does it anyway.

"No." He echoes, louder than before, casting it at the men who don't stop or pause.

"No!" She screams at Radcliffe, channeling all her fury and fear and panic and _love_ into a common one-syllable word because she's tired of seeing their friends ripped apart and she's tired of _them_ getting ripped apart and she isn't going to let it happen _again_.

"No!" He shouts, clinging on to her as much as she's clinging on to him, searching around the approaching men for someway to escape.

"No!" She screams at herself, because she's tired of them getting ripped apart but she isn't able to hold on him and he isn't able to hold on to her when they come to them, jerking them apart.

"No" He finally yells, reaching out for her fingers only to grasp air as he's dragged away.

"No!" She screams at the roof— and it's meant for the cosmos because she's struggling to fight the rough hands that hold her in place, and he's struggling to fight the rough hands that haul him away but it isn't enough.

 _She_ isn't enough.

Sobs break through her screeching, drowning the 'no's as tears trickle down her cheeks, and Jemma squeezes her eyes shut and heaves as she bends over in the henchman's arms.

"No! Jemma!" He screams, his voice above her cries and it's so full of desperation and need that it ignites a fire that burns through her veins snaps her into clarity. Eyes wide open, she plants her feet firmly on the ground and cracks her head backwards into the man's face. Taking advantage at the man's surprise, she twists around and knees him between his legs as hard as she can, before she pushes him onto the floor. Everything around her is a blur as she runs to Fitz, grabbing his captor's arms and trying to yank it away.

"Dr. Simmons, let go! I _will_ shoot you!" Radcliffe shouts from out of focus.

" _Never,_ " she snarls.

Radcliffe doesn't answer and the henchman holding Fitz hesitates and the one on the ground stops moaning and for a moment Jemma believes it's because of her.

That's when she feels it—the ground rumbling and the entire lab shaking and Jemma almost doesn't want to let herself believe it's because of _her_.

But it is, because the doors slam open and Daisy bursts through, arms stretched outwards and eyes gleaming with ferocity. Radcliffe doesn't have a chance to retaliate because he's being thrown off his feet, hitting the wall and crumpling to the ground without so much as a yelp as the henchman on the ground is knocked unconscious.

"I suggest you let him go." Daisy speaks, her voice breaking the silence and dripping with wrath. The man releases Fitz, shaking his head in fear and raising his arms in surrender as Daisy blows him into the wall, landing on top of Radcliffe in a heap.

It takes a moment for them all to realize what's just happened.

(but when it does, they don't hesitate)

Daisy runs towards them, arms still stretched outwards but differently than before and her eyes gleam with relief as they run towards her. Her clothes are black and her makeup is black and her hair is black but Jemma thinks that nothing shines as brightly as she does right here, right now as she hurls herself into them, engulfing them in her embrace.

They stay like that longer than they should have—unable to let go, unable to let themselves be ripped apart again.

Daisy's the one to pull back first, smiling through the tears that run down her face.

"I, uh," she sniffles, "I'm sorry it took me so long."

Fitz laughs, and there's no anger in his tone when he responds. "Daisy, it's been months!"

"I know, but I've been keeping tabs on you guys. And when I didn't see you at the park on a Sunday—"

Jemma reaches for Daisy's hand and squeezes it, nodding her silent appreciation and Daisy stops speaking, blinking rapidly and squeezing her hand back.

Jemma drops her hand, and turns around to face Fitz, leaning into him swiftly and reaching up to meet his lips against hers. He melts into her and she melts into him and it's suddenly like nothing or no one else exists in this world but them.

Breaking apart for air, Fitz reaches out to stroke her cheek, and she reaches out for his, lost in his eyes as much as he must be lost in hers.

"I told you I wouldn't let it." Jemma murmurs.

"And I told you _we_ wouldn't let it." Fitz murmurs back.

"Listen, guys, as much as I _love_ your love and my heart literally feels like it's going to explode we should leave and call someone to pick these assholes up."

They aren't paying attention, so they don't notice Daisy's smile.

(It's the first one in a long time)


End file.
